Final Fantasy VII: Young Sephiroth
by brotheroflite
Summary: Many know of Sephiroth, the hero of the Wutai Wars and the planet's greatest threat, but how many people know of the boy? In this fan-fiction, get a fan-glimpse of what it was like for Sephiroth as a boy growing up, and what shaped him into the cold hearted monster we all love him as now!
1. Intro

Final Fantasy VII

Young Sephiroth

Episode 1: Training

"Now, Little Sephiroth, don't be afraid." Said a pale, tale man in a long, white lab coat. He had pointy and narrow features, wore rectangle glasses, and had a sharp tone in his voice. And when he spoke, an undertone of something dark always seemed place. But this was Shinra's, the electric company, top scientist in new, vast fields. Perhaps one of the most brilliant minds on the planet when it came to Mako. "This will only be a simulation, a test to see how you have progressed in your training."

A young boy, at the age of eight, eagerly peered at the metal cast iron door. Little Sephiroth had long, silver-like hair that flowed past his shoulders and wore a fitted battle attire costume to that of the soldiers with his size in mind. Even for a boy at the age of eight, he was tall and seemed physically adapt at such a young age. On his back was a sword about his body length, in the shape of a long-sword. Standard issued for soldiers. "How does it work again, Hojo?" The boy asks, his tone light yet full of insight.

Grinning, Professor Hojo was always pleased to hear the young boy eagerly awaiting new knowledge. For it was Hojo who had taken the boy in since his mother died, and took it upon himself to raise him in Shinra along with another scientist. "Photons, mostly. Inside, gravity forms the objects you stand on, and a program watches your every action and duplicates what it might be like in the real world. Sensors are placed to monitor your every move, allowing the program to accurately react to whatever you do."

The boy just nodded in response, seeming to understand it well enough. However, the program was much more impressive then that simple explanation. One of Hojo's greatest designs. Through bending light and gravity itself, the room expands within that small vicinity, allowing it to seem as if ten feet is one-hundred yards.

"Now," Hojo continued with one hand on a key-pad, quickly putting in numbers so the door slides open, "are you ready to begin?"

Stepping through the door's frame, the boy didn't even respond. Perhaps Hojo always suspected it might just be a cold demeanor developing from being a simple foster child, but in truth, the boy didn't like Hojo that much. To Sephiroth, the scientist was creepy. A smirk curved the scientists face nonetheless, shutting the door behind the boy before moving away into another room to monitor him.

In that small room were monitors and another scientist. "Hollander," Hojo said briefly before sitting in an empty chair and beginning to type codes for the program to begin.

"Hojo." Hollander responded briefly before turning his chair to face the monitors, eyes peering at a boy in a darkened, blue room with nothing but machinery around him. "We're putting him up against soldiers, simulating real combat?"

"Yes," replied Hojo with slight annoyance.

This response only annoyed Hollander. He knew his partner was arrogant to a fault, always eager to prove himself right and prove Hollander wrong. It's the sort of competition that he admired and kept him going. "Two or three?"

"No," Hojo responded once more, but this time his eyes glancing towards his co-scientist. "Ten."

"Ten?" Hollander's voice rose in surprise. "How arrogant! You think an eight year old can take on one soldier, let alone ten?!" Gesturing towards Sephiroth, he scowled and rebuked the scientist's decision. "He's a child, Hojo! No matter what you think he can be, this could kill him!"

A cold gaze was only his response to Hollander. Equal in tone, he says, "If he dies then he was a failed experiment, and I will have to draw up another hypothesis for our project."

Astonished, Hollander stares for a moment in a stupor until he remembers what they are here for. Despite his protest of Hojo's methods, he was right and this was his project. "I see… then lets begin…"

"Are you ready, Sephiroth, to start the training?"

The boy nodded in response to nothing, for the cameras were well hidden from sight. Though after a gaze around the complex, he could make out where they were exactly. Elaborate, as always, they weren't stationed on any wall but hovering around as if to give a perfect view wherever they needed it.

"You will be tested against soldiers," said Hollander's voice, "and though this is a simulation, whatever may happen could hurt or kill you. Treat it as if it is real, and show no mercy. Do you understand?"

"I've been training against real soldiers for a year," the boy responded sharply, almost irritated as if they were attacking his skills. Though young, the boy showed quite a bit of pride.

"Don't be an idiot!" Hollander shouted. "You may have been sparring with them, but never in actual combat where your life is on the line. That arrogance will get you killed!"

Sephiroth sighed and gave the camera hovering closer to him a nod. "Yes. I apologize." His slender hand took from his back the long-sword, holding it with both hands in front of him. A clank was heard followed by a bolt of lightning triggering something above him.

The very room he was inside was changing to something different. A piece of Midgar, the streets, and at night. Or so the boy assumed. In Midgar, the air was hard to breath and under the plates, it always looked like night. Taking time to scan his surroundings, he suddenly heard a whistle behind him with a soldier pointing a gun.

The soldier shouted, "Drop your sword!" And approached him slowly. "Drop it or I will open fire!" But the boy didn't. It wasn't long before more showed up. One became two, and two turned to five. It wasn't long before he was surrounded by ten Shinra soldiers that now were shouting for him to stand down.

Something was different. The shouting was loud and striking straight into the boy's mind. Part of him never experienced this before and it caused a sudden rush in his blood. Scared. He had never been scared before. He had never been put in any real danger before, either. Going into a stance, something similar a soldier stance, he let out a breath of air. This expelled some of his freight, his heart still pumping harder.

They edged closer to him, warning him one last time. But the boy only readied himself further with his knees bending ever-so-slightly like a lion ready to kill it's prey.

Silence. If only for a moment before the highest ranking soldier gave the signal to attack. In a hail of gunfire, the boy sprang into action. The first soldier was the unlucky one, his own gun sliced open along with his chin following shortly after. An upward slice that drew the soldier off-guard, allowing the boy to move behind him in a twirl. The redirected shots went into the soldier's body, blood splattering from each entry before it simply keeled over.

However, the boy wasn't there anymore. Each of them drew closer in confusion, looking around with guns pointed upwards. One asked, "Where did he go?" while another stated, "He vanished like a ghost!" Some had wasted an entire clip into their own comrade and started to reload it. The few others forgot about the clips altogether in a spurt of confusion, now fear settling in for them.

"Where did that little bastard go?" A soldier asked, loading the clip in and cocking it back. It wasn't long before his questioned was answered, impaled from behind with the sword sticking out of his chest. In anguish, the soldier dropped to his death, only a smirk on the boy's face as the others were already close to him.

"FIRE!" They said, unloading bullets in futility.

Some of them the boy blocked, and he found it easy to detect their speed and dodge or deflect them from his blade. Between dodges and deflections, his sword swiftly drew upon his victims each one taking a mortal blow before there were no more bullets left in their guns. The boy was left with his sword, blood staining it, outward in a finale strike before each soldier fell in the order they were attacked. Like dominos.

Standing up, the boy gazed at the bodies now lifeless thanks to him. A grin curved his lips before he peered up at a camera staring at him, wondering if their faces were in awe. "How did I do, Hollander?" He said to the camera, expectant of a reply.

A puzzled yet amazed look was written on Hollander's face. The boy single-handedly took out a squad of Shinra soldiers at the mere age of eight. What… was this boy? "H-how did you do that?" He said, impressed but with a defeated tone.

"_It was easy,"_ Sephroth replied, _"They were slow and I was fast! I told you I could do it!"_

"Yes," Hollander said looking over at Hojo.

"Very good, Sephiroth," Hojo said to the mic. "Now," he said, imputing more commands before the simulation stops and settled back to it's machinery state, "Leave the simulator. You may have the rest of the day to yourself."

There was a cheer from the boy when Hojo said this, but the scientist didn't react to it. Instead, his eyes burned into Hollander, and Hollander knew a boast would be coming. "Unlike you, Hollander, I do not come up with silly, nonsensical experiments. This boy is the key," he stated, "to the project. Let this be a lesson to never doubt Professor Hojo again."

Hollander's face casted down in defeat, not wanting to respond to the accusation or Hojo's success. He didn't want to increase his fellow scientist ego further. While Hojo left with a chip of the data in his hand, Hollander didn't move from his chair and looked at the screen.

A fire was burning in his eyes. Hojo had little regard for life, something now Hollander considered adapting. The stain of his defeat and Hojo's victory was getting to be too much a burden for him to bare. He couldn't any longer. He would vow to prove Hojo wrong!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Goro Nyudo_

Three years later…

An ten-year-old-boy traveled enough, according to the President of Shinra, but young Sephiroth could no longer be restraint from his desires. The boy had become more passionate, and deadly. His training and lessons had progressed him farther than any soldier in their military formed to a new degree. It was an amazing feat and accomplishment, most would say. A sniveling scientist would disagree.

He had grown tired of guns and found them too easy. Even simulations proved too little for him and he only wanted bigger game. It wasn't allowed, however, as he was considered precious. To a boy, almost a teen, it felt more like a trap. His mind was expanding and he wanted to know more, experience more. Being kept in a building and let out like a dog wasn't him. He hated it.

However, the boy was disciplined enough never to respect those who watched over him. And respect the annoying scientists that 'tested' him. In truth, some of his desire to know the world came to him becoming more aware of himself.

He was told little of his father except he abandoned him, and that his mother died giving birth. In theory, he assumed it was his mother's death that forced his father to leave him. Maybe he was hated, though how can he be blamed for it? Instead, his family was Shinra and the only one he had ever known. Though something was strange.

Shinra was his home, but home wouldn't be what he described it. It felt more like a prison. He never had a teacher except those who tutored him on subjects and the world itself. He had extensive knowledge of combat, science, history, mathematics, biology, and materia. Materia was an interesting subject that fascinated him, something he really wanted to explore, but Hojo insisted that any 'spiritual' or 'religion' should be thrown out of the learning process.

Combat also interested him and this was greatly encourage. As before, guns were boring but he quite liked the difficulty of facing them. It took speed and accuracy to face them and the mathematics helped more than he was willing to admit. (Who likes math?)

After requests and complaints, finally he was given a first real opportunity to meet someone he had only heard about from rumors of soldiers. A swordsman and blacksmith who lived on the other side of the world who could forge weapons so great that they could cut the very earth in half. Logically the boy thought this was just a great sells pitch, but he was revered and hired by Shinra for commissions.

The blacksmith had no ties to Shinra except through armed weapons, never guns but only the melee kind. Simple blades and swords for after when rifles lost ammo. And most of the known world didn't use guns, they were still primitively using bows and arrows. Despite the flow of time changing in terms of weapons in the world, this man still was sought after if not for specific weapons.

It wasn't just the design or how strong the weapons he crafted were. Coming from a long line of blacksmiths, this man had perfected his craft! Some have even called it the dawn of the blade.

This man was named Goro Ryudo…

The road was bumpy and that was because there were no roads. Three soldiers and a boy sat in the back of it, all to care for the boy. However, Sephiroth was too busy looking out of the truck window. This was the first time he had traveled by boat- or anything else- to a new land mass! It wasn't so different, he admitted, but the travel was well worth it.

To see Junon, the harbor town, and travel to Costa Del Sol, a resort of towns for the more wealthy was new. He had never played on the beach. And he didn't do much of it, having no friends. He did admire it enough and felt a mystical sense about the ocean and his new experience. Something he couldn't explain.

South they continued on, the truck bouncing occasionally as only a map helped lead the right way. "Have you ever heard of Goro Ryudo?" Sephiroth spoke out to one of the soldiers, who was sitting down and resting. "He's the greatest smith of our time, some people say ever."

"I've heard of him, but I wouldn't put much stock in a blade over a pistol." The soldier pulled out his handgun and showed it to the boy, who didn't show much interest. "You can only reach so far with a sword, but with a gun you can be safely away from your target and get the job done."

A smirk curved his lips. Sephiroth could have easily debated this, as the simulations had proved he was capable of avoiding and dodging from more capable guns then a handgun. "They aren't as fun."

"It's not about fun," the soldier explained, "but proficiency. In a war, swords are messy. A gun is quick and easy to clean up. And guns allow you to protect your soldiers more. War isn't fun," the soldier continued as he leaned closer to the boy, "and being able to end a war quickly is better than a bloodbath."

The boy lifts his silverfish brow up and paused to reflect. "How do you know so much?" He asked the soldier curiously.

Lifting his helmet off, the soldier's blonde hair was slick and only reached behind his neck. He had glasses on, military grade. "I have studied in Midgar," he explained, "and enlisted in Soldier specifically to learn more about war, and how to stop it."

"You're a new recruit?"

"So to speak." He replied with a sigh. "I'm happy to get an easy assignment, escorting a kid that doesn't even need our help."

"You know of me," the boy replied with a smirk, "but I know nothing about you."

"Call me Lazard." The blonde soldier said with his hand held outstretched to the boy.

For a second the silver haired boy examined the mans hand, and shook it. "Sephiroth."

"Oh, I know," Lazard replied and pressed his back against the metal wall of the truck. "Everyone who is in Shinra knows your name." A smirk soon curved his lips.

The house was humble, nothing much to it. Sizable for a single person - but he wasn't alone. A boy was outside and awaited with the older man, who had a hammer in his hand. On his back was an even bigger hammer - one used for combat. This was Goro Nyudo, the famous blacksmith known throughout the world.

A shinra soldier opened the back, Sephiroth being the first to hop out of the truck and scan around. Lazard and the other soldiers soon followed and quickly went to search for any potential problems. They would fine none, of course, but a quaint home surrounded by nothing for miles.

Solitude must have been the man's secrets. So far from any major town or city, and the closest was the famous Golden Saucer to the west. By all of the tools, the blacksmith was a survivor. He hunted his own meals, he chopped his own wood, and crafted nearly everything. The only thing he could not provide himself was materials for his creations. That was thanks to a small mining town north-west of here.

It didn't take long for Sephiroth's excitement to catch up as, in true boyish fashion, he ran to the old man and quickly introduced himself. "Sir Nyudo! I am Sephiroth. I have eagerly sent you many letters persisting to see your work!"

What was also known about Goro Nyudo is he didn't just craft his weapons. He was a master of combat, both with weapons and without. This was something Sephiroth knew well and had intended for more than just an inquiry of the man's smithing.

"Ah, I have received many letters," Goro spoke in a low voice with authority behind it, "and am glad to have such a young man interested in his work." Both of his hands clasped behind him. The other boy had followed, eager to watch the interaction and to learn from Goro.

"I was surprised you allowed me to come meet you!" Sephiroth said with such eagerness that surprise fell short. Bowing once more, the boy shifted more to business. "May I see some of your latest work?"

"Of course you can," Goro replied and motioned to the boy next to him. It became evident to Sephiroth that this was his disciple for as soon as the boy saw the gesture, he quickly ran off to make preparations. "I will have food ready for you and the soldiers to eat." The soldier's head shifted towards the master at the acknowledgement of food, a rumble in their stomachs audible to their starvation. "Come, young one." He said to Sephiroth and turned towards the house.

Behind the surface of a simple meeting, Goro offered his home freely for many reasons. Nyudo was a businessman and owed much to Shinra. Their contracts alone had kept him stable for years. If meeting a boy who is a fan is something he must do, he was willing to do so. Little did he know of the boy's importance to the world, or how a simple meeting would become his greatest student.


End file.
